<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Sarpeidon Leather in Ten Forward by strangeworks</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159910">Sarpeidon Leather in Ten Forward</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeworks/pseuds/strangeworks'>strangeworks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempt at Humor, Crack and Angst, Fever Dreams, Gen, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inappropriate Humor, Intoxication, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Sarpeidon Leather Shoes, Tablecloths, This Is STUPID, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Weird Plot Shit, Why is the Rum Gone?, brief and crappy data/reader cause I couldn't help myself, degenerate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:55:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeworks/pseuds/strangeworks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A seemingly normal evening in Ten Forward cascades into utter chaos and embarrassing decay.<br/>Why is Picard mopping the floor with his designer shoes? Why is Riker threatened by a jumbo tablecloth? Nothing makes sense.</p><p>Brought to you by intense sleep deprivation. Forgive me for this deranged monstrosity.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Data &amp; Jean-Luc Picard, Data &amp; Worf (Star Trek), Data (Star Trek) &amp; Reader, Jean-Luc Picard &amp; Reader, Jean-Luc Picard &amp; William Riker, William Riker &amp; Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sarpeidon Leather in Ten Forward</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You stood by the leftmost table of Ten Forward with Jean-Luc, criticizing the drunken crew frolicking about. Normally those aboard the Enterprise, either for pleasure or duties, were a very calm and obedient group. Tonight, however, every single Starfleet officer had been thrown into, not only an intoxicated stupor, but a frenzy.</p><p>It was thankfully non-violent. Well, options of repercussion would be slim; who exactly would make the arrests if Security was a part of this little ‘ball’?</p><p>Riker was attempting to stumble over to the two of you, his slurred shouts thick amidst an air of delighted screams and cries. His large frame swayed back and forth as he tried to put one foot in front of the other. People either moved out of his way, or into it, depending on how they were feeling. A look of frustration was etched into his face; he seemed to be having trouble figuring out if his steps should fall sideways or forward. His drink was sloshing about violently, spilling onto people without a slight of consideration; his eyes were clearly dizzy as he couldn’t focus on a single thing.</p><p>“Damnit! Why are you so far away Picard?” His painfully slow intonation was almost rivalled by the fact that he was only two steps away from the Captain’s feet.</p><p>“Yes, Number One?” Jean-Luc stifled his laugh, bringing a hand up to his own weathered face to wipe a growing smile off.</p><p>“You look ancient.” Riker belched as he stumbled forward, his drink promptly spilling on Jean-Luc’s brand new Sarpeidon leather loafers.</p><p>“Will, this is absolutely unacceptable.” Jean-Luc did not hesitate to rip the large cloth off of your entire table for reasons beyond your knowledge. A tray of forty beverages stacked on top of one another fell like a cascade onto an adjacent table. You heard someone cry “free drinks!” upon the spill's impact.</p><p>Like a matador riling up a very large and very angry bull, it looked as if Jean-Luc was waving the cloth once in front of his First Officer. Jean-Luc <em>was</em> indeed looking rather elderly in that moment.<br/>
Riker brought one leg back, scraping his foot against the ground in animalistic irritation. What Jean-Luc had instead meant to do, was shake out the entirety of the 99.9x99.2 tablecloth and caress his soiled, one-of-a-kind shoe. Riker’s dazed eyes widened upon embarrassing misconception; he had to lean against the cloth-less table to stabilize his ‘Qi’.</p><p>“Jean-Luc, how much were your high heels?” You asked, not thinking there was anything wrong with what you’d just said.</p><p>“What did you just say?” Jean-Luc looked up in horror, his hand had enclosed on the cloth and was hovering in disbelief over his shoe. You gulped.</p><p>“You called me Jean-Luc.” Jean-Luc clicked his tongue, squaring his shoulders at you in his squatting position in an attempt to stare you down.</p><p>“Your name’s Jean-Luc?” Riker choked incredulously, his hand jerking violently to the right as Jean-Luc broke the staring contest; pulling the cloth from out under Riker’s foot. In a blinding flash of cheap cloth, you noticed there was only a drop of the 600-proof bootleg Synthehol in Riker’s cup; a volume that had justpreviously been near the top.</p><p>You glanced down to see Picard drenched in a liquid that smelled and looked like burnt warp coil fluids. You gasped in horror as you noticed, yes, his other shoe had suffered a similar fate as its fraternal twin.</p><p>“Allow me,” Data’s overly-confident persona appeared out of, seemingly nowhere. You thought for a moment that one sane individual inhabited this establishment, but you were wrong.</p><p>Data tried to pull the tablecloth from Jean-Luc in a grandiose and broad gesture, bending as if he was bowing to an audience. Jean-Luc screamed in protest as Data gingerly took the paper-thin fabric between his fingers.</p><p>“The size of this tablecloth is rather small for your footwear, sir.” Data observed as he continued to pull a never-ending stream of fabric. </p><p>“No, no, no! It’s all wrong! Take it!” Jean-Luc screamed in sudden lack of inhibition, throwing the bundle at a curious Data. Jean-Luc removed the most recently desecrated shoe, and began to mop up the floor with it.</p><p>“Nodiepras leather is extremely absorbent. Would you care to try?” Jean-Luc extended his arm to hand Riker the shoe. Riker graciously tried to transfer ownership, but on his way there, he slipped on Data’s fallen commbadge.</p><p>“What in the-“ Riker was lying flat on his back; regardless, he took this opportunity to readjust his uniform top. He made a quick snow angel (synthe-angel?) before slipping numerous times to his hands and knees in facsimile burnt warp coil liquid. He picked up Jean-Luc’s shoe and began to mop up the mess, complimenting the “repellency” of the “metallic apparatus”.</p><p>“Acting Ensign, I believe?” Data stepped over Riker’s head to reach you, but in doing so, he accidentally collided with his ear. Riker took no notice but complained of a tremendous ringing, asking Jean-Luc if there was a “Bed Alert”.</p><p>Data once again extravagantly bowed and presented the tarnished monstrosity in a way that was almost compelling. Still, much to your contemplation, you declined and told him to “throw it away”.</p><p>Quite literally, Data threw it away. As if all the cards were aligned against him, Riker was awoken from his “Bed Alert” by Data’s careless lack of compassion. Riker was endlessly tangled in the cloth.</p><p>“I was only asleep for six minutes!” Riker slurred, grabbing onto Jean-Luc’s foot to drag him into whatever was going on with the fabric.</p><p>“May I call you ‘Acting Ensign’?” Data queried smoothly, taking your hand in his and bestowing a small kiss on your knuckles. You recoiled in perturbation, and had actually responded “No”, but Data did not hear you.</p><p>“Did you know that only three life forms can breathe the air in Ten Forward at once?” He poked your chest; its meaning utterly ambiguous. You felt something cold and clammy wrap around your ankle, only to see that Riker was trying to tie the cloth to you.</p><p>“I believe it wise to leave this establishment.” Data jerked you away from certain demise and held out his arm. With blurry vision, you moved to take it with your own two hands so you could follow him without stumbling.</p><p>“That is an incorrect procedure.” Data chastised, withdrawing his arm and holding up a single finger. “You must put your head through what I have created for you.”</p><p>“He’s trying to tie that cloth around me.” You slurred incoherently, moving your feet in a little dance so Riker couldn’t grab you.</p><p>“I believe this is for you.” Data encouraged, his arm still in place.</p><p>“That’s a… a chokehold.”</p><p>“Chokehold?” Data echoed in confusion, as if you had insulted his very creator. You eyed him cautiously, for some reason circling around him like a Klingon mating ritual. Part of it was to get rid of Riker as a bonus point. Data’s eyes followed you effortlessly before he spat “Do it!”</p><p>You weren’t sure if his request was for the chokehold or for you to continue whatever Klingon ritual you were commencing. You believed it was the latter, so you pulled yourself forward in a sharp step forward, looking up at him with hostile eyes. He stood still and oddly defiant in front of you; Riker slipping in the background and uttering obscene words was admittedly ruining whatever bizarre vibe you had going. You took Data’s collar and viciously pulled him into you, only to shove him back when he allowed himself to move forward.</p><p>“A clear act of defiance <em>and</em> intimidation?”</p><p>You wheeled around, with Data’s uniform still clenched in your hand, to see Worf standing on the same table Jean-Luc had ripped the damned cloth from. An “is this the meal?” sounded from Jean-Luc’s mouth as he continued to wipe the floor with his shoe.</p><p>“Not you!” You shouted, trying to drag Data along with you. Data tripped on your feet as you pulled, falling all over you as if he were intoxicated himself.</p><p>“Y/N, this is only a child.” He soothed as he recovered his footing, gently taking your own uniform collar in his hands to copy your movements. He was intrigued by this oddly intimate gesture, yet could not understand why you would not leave with him in his preferred method of exit.</p><p>“A child!?” Worf screamed, launching off the table only to, most unfortunately, fall directly on Jean-Luc’s hand.</p><p>“My Sarpeidon loafer!” Jean-Luc swung his other hand over to Worf’s leg, apparently not concerned his other extremity’s skeletal construct risked compromise.</p><p>“What crunched under me?” Worf looked down briefly, noting that it was “just” Jean-Luc before launching himself at Data. You let go of him and tried to run, but <em>Data</em> had not let go of you. Spinning you around as if in a ballroom, Data dramatically leaned you over his left arm, as if he was about to kiss you. Riker had crawled over to you and pushed the back of your knee, causing you to drop slightly. Data took this split second to put you in the ‘chokehold’ and carry you out of Ten Forward. This was done all before Worf had even reached you.</p><p>Worf’s angry fists pounded the now-closed doors. Jean-Luc’s wails over his expensive shoe - not his hand - prevailed through the metal; disregarding the fact he had just spent five minutes using it as a mop.</p><p>“What are you doing here Acting Ensign?” Data frowned in disorientation, resigning himself to a systems scan amidst the muffled screams from the other side of the door.</p><p>“I'm a Commander.” You too were confused why <em>he</em> was there. What <em>you</em> were doing in front of Ten Forward. Cases of amnesia were so rare, but it could be the only explanation! Data didn’t bother to converse any longer; he left you behind to most likely venture to the Bridge. You stupidly decided you would take advantage of your proximity to Ten Forward, thus you stepped (back) through the doors.</p><p>Was that Q wrapped in <em>the tablecloth</em> like Julias Caesar? Where were the beverages? Memories of moments ago returned rather swiftly and starkly; much like Picard's aging process of the night.<br/>
Nothing had changed. At least, that's what you thought... until you noticed Worf resting on one knee in front of you, a bottle cap in his hand as if to present a ring.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>